Poetry By Marko Capoferri

        Andrew Seaman CC




Self-portrait with Elegy (III)

Whenever I am adrift
a faroff earthbound watery star 
means home      a house 

in the fields      of memory
where it’s always evening
an ending just beyond reach

and welcome that way
And I’m always that kid
kicking dirt clods

the clotted remains
of a growing season gone
down the tubes     too much rain

too little time to breathe
between the wet hoof beats
clopping their way

down the roof
into my dreams
A mosquito swarm into a chord

a single car      muffler sputtering
down into the dark
of the closing day

At the window      
the bruise-colored waves of rain
wash in from the west

fireflies compel
their own morse code
with cricket and thrush

and distant thunder 
hollering       like a father
from up the stairs
​
I wasn’t much more then
than the result of old growth
that grew close enough

to rub away the rough in each other 
But the world turns
on the momentum         of leaving

There’s a moment
when it feels like twilight
can go either way      the way

maple leaves can seem
to keep waving        goodbye
even after the wind stops blowing 





Partial Eclipse

I’m learning    to lean in    to the falling    almost-
dark    you call it    a game of trust    those arms    

warm rivers    merging    tracks of light    lean in    close    
tell me    your lies    I’ll believe them    if you tell them 

truly    you’re teaching me    turn in    to the skid    the ice    
won’t form yet    for another    six months    outside now    

blows profuse    hymns    in hummingbird    tongues
a honeyed weight     as light descends    too much almost    

to breathe    sometimes    when the days    grow long    
twilight is    a compromise    of territories    your rich outline    

and mine    dark    in the window    tracing    vague shapes    
doves    in twilit flight    barking dogs    teach me    how

to live    with your hands    out there    luna’s glossy plume    
halfway    out of frame    earth cutting    into it    a fine line    

we walk    the bleeding edge    this game    of dim shadows
shows us    more fully    than full light    ever would

​


Marko Capoferri has lived and worked in eight US states, including Montana, where he currently resides. He is an MFA candidate at the University of Montana in Missoula. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Painted Bride Quarterly, Porter House Review, Prometheus Unbound, Camas, and FatherFather.
​